New Skids on the Block...

Tuesdays evenings are usually my favorite evenings during the entire week, and for only one reason. Taco Tuesday at Del Taco. After making a pact with the Devil, Del Taco has a deal where on Tuesdays you can gorge yourself with tacos at the low low price of 3 for 99 cents! I LOVE these fuggin tacos! They aren't really that big and there isn't much to them, but my my are they tasty. I usually eat a small lunch on these days so I can shove these little morsels into my gullet one after the other. The most I've consumed in one visit is 12, but I know I can tear up more than that. It may seem like a lot of tacos to feast on, but they are pretty small and can be eaten in two bites.

Although this day is like a weekly Christmas for me, it comes at a price. I have what my doctor calls a "stressed" stomach which means I when I get stressed out my stomach gets upset and if I've just eaten I'm a ticking time bomb. I can't even have breakfast most mornings because my stomach gets cramped up. Shit, I can't even drink water first thing in the morning! Sometimes it's just cramps, sometimes I have to do "#2". I can only eat so many fooods with out having to run to the crapper and Del Taco tacos rarely stay for more than an hours visit, but sometimes they spend the night. This is why I usually only partake in taco Tuesday if I'm going home after work.

Yesterday was your typical shitty day at work and Taco Tuesday was the only pot of gold at the end of the rainbow for me. I hadn't slept too good the night before so by the time the work day was done I was beat, AND I was starving! On the way home I go through the drive thru and order 9 tacos (for only $! CHA-CHING!) I get home, do the usual things people do when they get home from work, then I settle down with my tacos and plenty of Del Scorcho sauce. When I'm done eating I play with my dogs for a bit and figure I should take a little nap to regroup. After about 45mins of sleep (the dogs took a nap too) we all get up and I do a small bit of chores, then watch some stimulating intellectual television. I believe the shows were: American Idol/My wife and kids, George Lopez, Scrubs and The Office. After watching these shows I get a little "rumble in the jungle" and go TCB. Turns out it was only a little gas and I was fine. I was even a bit surprised that the tacos had sat well the whole night? It was money well spent.

It's a little after 10pm and I get my boys ready to go for a walk. I usually go for walks pretty late because I don't like people around when I go out. When I go late it's like I have the night all to myself and with the cool evening breeze followed up with the mellow glow of the street lights it's quite tranquil. Seeing as how my dogs are a Bassett Hound and a Beagle, these walks take forever because they have to sniff every little fucking thing that God has created! They get pretty excited when it's time for their walks and since it's good exercise for all of us I usually take a route that adds up to over an hour out on the streets. The route I take is cool because it goes through the neighborhood that consists of nice old houses, huge trees in almost every yard and dim lit streets. TiVo my beagle if a pushy lazy ass and likes to trot along the walks while trying to take charge by sitting if he feels tired. I've tried to take him jogging with me, but he ain't having it. He trotted about a block before he just said fuck it and laid down on a patch of grass...fat ass. Malcolm the Bassett Hound on the other hand LOVES to go for walks and even runs some of the time, since he has little legs though it isn't like TiVo and I have to run to keep up with him. If anything it turns into a speed walk. I admire the little hombre though because he has a gimp front let that looks like a 4 inch boomerang, which makes him fall on his face if he gets overzealous, but still runs with excitement. Unlike that little fat ass TiVo.

I grab my MP3 player, put the dogs in their harnesses and leashes and awaaay we go! The night is cool and the boys are walking like they own the neighborhood. As we're walking they start their business of smelling every damn blade of grass we walk by. I don't get why they constantly do this considering we take the same fucking route when we go walking?! Malcolm stops all of the sudden and it jerks my arm hard enough that it smarts. I turn to see what his problem is but he starts running and we continue to walk. In my peripheral vision I can see him shaking his head like he was at a Ozzy Osbourne concert. "What hell are you doing?" I scowl at him, but he just keeps going. TiVo could care less about all this and pretty much keeps to himself. Finally he gets on my nerves and I bend down to see what his problem is. Like I said it's pretty dimly lit on these streets so I have to get pretty close to the kid to see what his deal is! As I lean down I grab his head, he shakes me off, I grab it again and see the idiot has a huge feather in his mouth and was shaking it around to show it's who's boss. Man these fuckers get on my nerves sometimes. I throw it in a random yard and give his leash a little tug as if to say "let's go", TiVo seems amused that Malcolm is in trouble and trots along like he's some little angel. Fucker. We continue our walk and I'm starting to get pissed because they will not stop sniffing everything and it's taking forever for our trek to end! This was the worst I've seen them act and I swear they were just fucking with me! I start to get more pissed off when all of the sudden I feel a baby kick in my belly! "Oh shit" I think to myself, not now. It doesn't get too bad and I end up turning off my radio so I can squeak out a fart without making it too loud, all while looking around for people who might hear me. Even though there was no one around I still look at the dogs like they did it and I was grossed out. I felt a little bit better and talk myself down from a cramped up stomach. A couple of blocks later it kicks in again. I let out a little machine gun series of farts and then realize those were my spacers! Spacers are the farts that take up the space between a turd and your butthole, the more you fart, the closer the turd gets to being released. C'mon, we've all dealt with spacers so don't get all uppity and act grossed out. Anywho, I realized I am now on poo patrol and at the halfway mark of our walk. No matter what I was still a ways from my apt. and would have to take the simple path home...quickly. I start to walk and this time I just charge ahead without letting the dogs smell anything.

With quick long strides I am power walking down the streets and even TiVo is moving his little legs like a champ while Malcolm runs along side of me. "FUURT" a spacer fart slips out and I can feel the sweat start to form on my forehead. I had to hurry or else there would be a terrible ASSPLOSION! I tug the leashes a little more and start to walk faster, all while thinking "okay, not far to go. You can make it, just don't fart anymore! You only got half a spacer left." I'm starting to feel a little guilty because I can see both dogs panting because they've never had this hard of a work out. I'm only about 8 blocks away and the cramps are getting worse when all of the sudden "blurb blurp" I lose my last spacer. Next time wouldn't be so friendly. Sweat is running down my temples and back as panic starts to set in. There was no way I could shit myself, I was wearing shorts! Should I knock on someone's door? Should I duck in dark spot in someone's yard and then run when I was finished? What would I do with the dogs?! There was no easy way out, I had to get HOME! The pudding was about to pop and even the dogs could tell that daddy had to make a boo boo! I was so proud of them for not giving me any hassles and scurrying as fast as they could I was wondering what kind of fitting reward I would give them.

Only 3 more blocks to go and the front of my shirt was soaked with what looked like a Superman emblem in the front but was actually a sweat spot on my chest. The turd was barely keeping itself hidden now and my ass felt like when you have a mouth full of soda then all of the sudden someone makes you laugh and you don't want to spit it out. Thinking I should jog the rest of the way, I start to shuffle into a run and instantly realize that was a bid idea. It felt like I was trying to shake chili out of a can. "C'mon Damon, you can make it" I think to myself with panic. Malcolm is running with so much gusto now that I can feel his tongue hitting my leg as it hangs out of his mouth. I get to the corner of my street grabbing both leashes with one hand as I shove my free sweaty hand into my pocket to get my keys. If I tripped and fell I would have had the ass of my boxers filled with brownie mix so I walked as fast as possible. I open the gate and break into a sprint down the hall leading to my apartment. I COULDN'T HOLD IT ANY LONGER! I HAD TO MAKE IT!!!! In one jabbing motion I make the key dead center into the key hole and turn it, opening the door. I slam the door behind me, throw the leashes down with one hand and start pulling my shorts down with the other! I run full speed to the bathroom and of all days I leave the toilet seat down! I frantically fumble with the seat and I can feel the start of something evil coming! I have my pants down now and whip around to sit down and let her blow! I'm not even seated down all the way when I feel the gust of chili (with no beans) blast out of my brown star with so much power I thought it might shoot through the porcelain! I settle in my seat and with all the adrenaline I had built up to getting to that moment I thought I was going to puke. This was the most violent visit to the water gardens I've ever had and didn't know I wronged so bad that they wished this on me. I'm not going to lie it STUNK and I had to open the door to keep from passing out. Even the dogs stood at the door way and then turned away after they were hit with the funk! Panting with exhaustion I finish up my bitness and don't move from my seat, probably from shock. I looked up cursing God while shaking my fist at the sky, then I wiped the sweat from my already damp scalp and forehead.

I was there for a good half hour before I finally had the strength to get up, but it felt like forever. I changed t-shirts and then buckled on the floor next to the dogs and expressed as much love as I could in appreciation for their awesome team work. I gave them each fists full of meaty bones and watched them devour them with a smile of pride on my face. I had a few more "visits" to the bathroom that night, but they were nothing like the one that felt like the gates of hell were opening up in my ass. I swore that night that I was never ever going to eat at that fucking Del Taco again! It's only Wednesday though so we'll see what happens next week.

Hey, at least I didn't shit in a fucking bucket!

DJB

Bad Boys, Bad Boys, Watchoo Gonna do...

I figure since the Pope has gone on to reap the fruits of his labor I should post a story that involves a religious holiday. Sort of.

Family functions have never really been my cup of tea, even worse were STEP-family functions! At least at family functions you were miserable at the same table for dinner, or in the same room sitting around each other. Actually it was my step-mookie's family functions that sucked the veins out of a penis, although there were about 3 people in her family that must have been adopted because they were as cool as the ice age. SOOO, Step-family functions were bullshit! Up until I was about 16 my sisters and I were always banished to sit in the kitchen with the "kids." Now these were the full blooded "family" kids and the closest one to the age of me and my sisters was about...oh...7! Must I even mention that after 16 I boycotted going to step-family functions? I thought not.

My moms family were usually the ones I spent most holiday's with. Most of the time I would go to these with my cousin Philly Blunts because we were tighter than a dolphins butthole, usually finding ways to entertain ourselves and others when put in boring situations. Mostly ourselves though. You'd think that my mothers family would be a hoot to hang with just from the looks of them, but oh no! The only regular ones, well - from my standards at least, were my uncle Leo, me Mum, Grandy Gram Grandma (not the shit bucket one), my sisters and one or two rarely seen cousins. The others looked like someone shook out a carnival tent in the house. I'd get into details but it'd take longer than my usual diatribes. Here's a quick rundown: some cousins were "braniacs" who never really knew anything except what chat rooms were good to meet obese girls in. One aunt thought that erections were made just for her because every guy got one when they met her! I think this had something to do with her mannish chubby body, know it all attitude, lack of a secure job and sexy ass mustache. ME-OW! Another aunt was cool when we were kids and hopelessly pathetic when we were adults. She was the "baby" of the family and never paid a bill with her own money in her life, yet she was always depressed and moochie. Both aunts LOVED going to the renaissance faire and even worked there for kicks! The uncles consisted of one white trash drunk who wore aviator style eye-glasses like the ones Jeffrey Dahmer sports in his photo's, plus he drank like a fish. Another uncle was a Vietnam vet so this gave him the right to treat me like I was a total idiot who would never last in "the shit", nor the real world. He was also built like a snowman with the middle ball missing. There were others, but this is the bulk of the misery.

When we were kids it always seemed blissful to go to Grandma's house for holidays. For some reason as we get older our insight matures as well and things turn to shit. We all knew we had nothing in common, but no one ever wanted to admit it. My cousin and I knew perfectly well that our family was as entertaining as watching a cow eat so when we got older booze and joints were a must have before stepping into the octagon. For some odd reason the family LOVED when we would get plowed! It provided some form of entertainment I guess?

One special Easter Sunday it was time to go to Grandma's house for a tortureous holiday gathering. Trust me, if Jesus had to go to my Grandma's house for Easter even HE would have said "screw it" and saved his resurrection for another day. I was barely 16 and Philly Blunts was 19, but we were very mature for our age. So mature that during this time we had purchased a nickel plated B.B. gun because 1) it was cheap 2) it cocked like a gun 3) Richard Grieco used one like it on his hit show "Booker"! We would drive around town shooting cats (THAT'S RIGHT! I HATE CATS!!) and random targets. We were so into this B.B. gun that we made sure it made it's way to the Easter extravaganza. We also had a more powerful B.B. rifle that couldn't be left behind either. It was a no brainer that things would get so boring that we would need to shoot up cans and cats at some point of the visit.

Grandma lived in La Puente, and if you can't figure it out from the name alone...it's pretty much a ghetto. The houses and neighborhood were probably the picture of suburban living in the 50's, but the 50's were long ago. Now the neighborhood was filled with homies, cha cha girls and anyone who just arrived from Mexico. My Grandmothers street seemed to have the best La Puente had to offer. On one side of my Grandmothers house were a family we lovingly called "The Cooties." Now this isn't a name us kids made up, no, this name was given by our parents...when THEY were kids! The one thing I can say our family unanimously agreed on was that we hated The Cooties! They were your normal Mariachi music blasting Mexican family and it was pretty obvious they hated us for generations too. I always wondered if they had a nickname for our family? The other side of my Granny's house was filled with what was safe to assume were illegal aliens. This house was HORRIBLE! It was very similar to the house that the kids meet their demise in from "the Blair Witch Project." The front yard looked like it was the victim of a mushroom cloud explosion and the back yard looked like it's where all the rubble landed. The residents of this wondrous property were spilling out of the windows because there were so many of them. So many in fact that my Grandmother told me she saw the oldest lady walk out the kitchen door, squat, pull her dress up to her knees and proceeded to sprinkle the lawn with sweet sweet urine! Ah, viva la raza. Enough about the neighborhood, you get the point.

Once we get to Grandmaster Flash's house we give our greetings and do what other people do at these things...EAT! This was one of the only perks of family functions. No matter how much people hate each other or how boring you know things will be, people always know that good food will take the edge off. Easter guaranteed a ham and mashed potatoes would be there, along with pastries of some sort and plenty of it! So we feasted like Kings...then we got bored.

Knowing we had the guns in the car my cousin and I give each other "the nod". After thinking about it a while we decided that shooting B.B. guns there at the house would only invite my goofy cousins to join in which would probably bring us down like the WTC. Lucky for us my grandmother lived around the corner from an elementary school. We excuse ourselves from the suare' (to be honest I don't know what reason we gave for leaving, but we left) and jump in my cousins van and head for the school.

On the way there we discussed what kind of rootin tootin fun we could have. The sky pretty much told us our time was limited so we had to think of something quick. I think my cousin came up with the genius idea, I just got excited at the prospect of it. The idea you ask? Well, we figured why waste our time sitting around shooting targets when we could just shoot at each other?! Yeah that's right EACH OTHER! Pretty good huh? It was a better plan than when we thought it would be fun to throw firecrackers at each other. I almost blew a finger off and Philly Blunts tossed one about an inch from my ear when it blew up. Yes, B.B. guns would be much safer. We both wore glasses so our eyes would be safe at least.

With lightning speed my cousin pulls into the school parking lot and we can't wait to let the games begin. First we needed to lay down some ground rules, after all, we were adults! Rule #1) NO SHOOTING IN THE FACE! Rule #2) NO PUMPING THE RIFLE MORE THAN 3 TIMES! This rule was made because the pistol had limited power and could barley shoot through a can. The rifle on the other hand could shoot straight through a can! Those were all the rules we needed, now we had to decide who got which gun. Smart money says you should go for the rifle, but idiots who are about to shoot each other go for the nickel plated "Booker" pistol! There was no doubt you'd look cooler running around with a pistol than a rifle, so it was a pretty easy choice. My cousin pulled rank though and shattered my dreams of getting all 21 Jumpstreet on his ass! Rules and guns were set, now it was go time!

We walk into the quad of the school and it's a shooters paradise. All around there are trees and plenty of brick walls to hide behind. Fluorescent lights lit up the corners of the quad so seeing your target would be a cinch. Not having even been in the quad 5 mins. we look at each other, then break out running from each other not knowing who would shoot first! As I'm running with my back to my cousin I hear him cock his gun and it makes me get that feeling in my stomach like I was dropping down a roller coaster. We are both laughing and I duck behind a tree. I'm about to look around it to see where my cousin is hiding when WHACK! I hear a B.B. hit the tree! I laugh out loud and I sit back behind the tree. ONE, TWO, THREE I quickly count in my head as I pump the air rifle. I cock a B.B. into the chamber and start my retaliation. I run around the corner of a brick wall and as I'm running I could hear B.B. flying around me along with the sound of my cousin rapidly cocking the pistol. Philly Blunts was no slacker with a B.B. pistol, he was definitely someone to be reckoned with and I had to be quick. Holding the rifle upright against my chest and the barrel pointed to the sky listening for the sounds of him shuffling around. I turn the corner and see him trying to run behind a tree and I shoot! MISS! DAMMIT! I blew the shot! As I fuming with anger I feel a sting in my leg and jump around and then behind another brick wall. I was hit! I had to get him back, the fucker! I cock the gun again and rush out to the battle field. This time I run closer and he's laughing hysterically while he runs from me. PHWACK! I shoot wildly and hit him in the arm! "AAAAAH!", he yells and I start convulsing with laughter as I run for cover! We were even now.

The shooting went on for a good half hour and we both shot each other up pretty good. It was starting to get dark and even though the outside lights were on, it was gonna be hard to see each other soon. I see my cousin behind a wall while I'm hiding behind a tree when all the sudden we both jump out from our hiding spaces to face each other western style. My gun goes off first but only by seconds, then I hear a shot followed by a hot sting above my cheek just below my eye. Now, I know my cousin was probably flinching as much as I was when he shot, but he still shot me in the face. I put my hand up to my cheek and touch the hot stinging spot on my face while staring at my cousin in shock. He starts to walk towards me and it had gotten so quiet I could hear every twig snap as he approached. He has a look of shock on his face too and has his gun to his side. Neither one of us has said a word yet and I'm just standing there leering at my cousin while touching my slightly bleeding wound. My cousin, only a couple of feet ahead of me now (still with his gun to his side) raises his eyebrows and shoulders while making a face that says "oopsie!" as he sees my wound is bleeding. It was only a small trickle of blood, if that, but when he made that face I knew what I had to do. Something must have clicked in my cousin's head too because he stopped in his tracks looking at me. "WE SAID NO SHOOTING IN THE FACE!", I exclaim, "now I get to shoot you!" I quickly start to pump away at the gun with furious speed. Philly Blunts could tell by the speed I was pumping I wasn't going to stop at 3, and he was right. "...5, 6, 7" I count in my head while staring at my cousin. He turns on his heels and start to run like he was running for his life! "...9, 10!!!" I lift the stock of the gun to my shoulder and take aim. Running away from me at full speed I focus on my cousins back...and FIRE! His arms flail up in the air as he screams "OWWW!" The sight of this just cracks me up and I start laughing so hard there is no sound coming out of my mouth. "There! Now we're even!" I tell him.
"Fuck that hurt! How many times did you pump it?!"
"10"
"Wha! Damn, that was way harder than the B.B. I hit you with" and he starts rubbing the small of his back. He lifts his shirt and tells me to take a look. After I catch a glimpse of my handy-work I again fold over with laughter. Right in the small of his back was a purple little circle with a spot of blood in the middle. My cousin gripes a little more, then we laugh it off and decide to head home because it was already dark, not to mention Easter was still going on at Grandma's.

Walking side by side out of the quad while cracking ourselves up telling each other our favorite highlights of the shoot out we see a car with really bright headlights coming towards us. We were just barely towards the front of the school near the parking lot when the car drives over the curb and onto the grass while still charging our way.
"Who the hell is that?" I say
"Maybe it's uncle Leo?", replies Philly Blunts while squinting through the lights trying to identify the driver.
"Dunno, but they're coming pretty fast"

The car stops about 20 feet in front of us and a flood light on the drivers side comes on almost blinding us. With posture like two Velociraptors and still holding our guns like Hill Billy's protecting our land, we continue to "walk towards the light" with looks of curiosity on our faces. Suddenly the passenger and drivers side doors fly open as two men charge out and yell to us "DROP YOUR GUNS!" Now the average Joe would instantly drop their guns without question, not us though, we were grown ass men! We take a couple more steps towards these mystery men as I mutter "wha... who are they" to Philly Blunts. After our next few steps we finally see through the glare of their blazing lights and notice they are both holding guns...and have them pointed right at us! Now in our defense these guys never identified themselves so how were we supposed to know who they were? "DROP YOUR DAMN GUNS!" They command us once again. This time we drop our guns and my cousin yells "they're just B.B. guns!" but I think the comment was moot by this point. As soon as the guns hit the floor the cops are on us a like a horny puppy grabs a leg. I get man handled a bit and then thrown to the ground. My cousin joins me a few seconds later then the cops yell for us to put our hands out in front of us and proceed to frisk us. Again we tell the swine that we just had B.B. guns, not real guns, but they seem deaf to our explanations. I don't know about Philly Blunts, but my cop was a little bit on the rough side and I practically have my face in the dirt. I wish I could say we were cool as cucumbers during this whole scenario, but to be honest we just had expressions on our faces like we were kids who heard thunder for the first time.

One cop stands in front of us, gun still drawn and pointed at us, when he tells the other pig "go check it out. I got them covered." Things must have been pretty tame that Easter for these gun toting bastards to act like they just caught Carmen Sandiego or something. The other cop heads for the quad, mag-light blaring while his other hand rests on the handle of his gun in the holster. My cousin and I look at each other as if to say "huh?" What did they think we were doing. We hear our captors walkie talkie squeak out "it's clean, there's nothing here", or whatever tough cop dialogue they gawk to each other, and Piggy McCopper tells up to stand up. Cop #2 walks back out towards us and we are put up against the cop car as Cop #1 picks up our guns. With a confidence that says "we cracked the case" Pig #1 tells Pig #2, "They're just B.B. guns." WHA?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME! This guy was an effing genius! Cop #2, who was in charge of my cousin, picks up the "Booker" pistol, examines it, then whistles and shakes his head a couple of times.
"Why didn't you guys drop your guns when we told you?"
"Well, we didn't know who you were? We just saw you driving up?"
"You know you two almost got shot!"
"um...yeah?"
"Where do you two live!"
"In Anaheim, but my Grandmother lives around the corner. We're at her house for Easter" my cousin explains
"Do you know how stupid it is to walk around with guns at an elementary school?!"
(Yes we did officer, but we were at a family function!) "Sorry, we were just shooting at each other? Not any windows or anything" I say, like that would be the smart statement that made us look like champs.
"Why don't you two go on back to your Grandmothers house"
This is where the our grown up skills kick in "Officer, can we have our guns back?" my cousin asks.
"...I should confiscate these from you two and make you come to the station to get them!" he preaches as he hands them back, "now go home"

With shame on our shoulders we hunch over and walk back to my cousins van. We buckle up while watching the cops pull off the lawn onto the street and drive away into the night. We were pretty quiet for a couple of seconds on the ride back to hell house when I break the silence with "DUUUDE! WE ALMOST GOT FUCKING SHOT! HOLY SHIT!" My cousin gets a big Cheshire cat grin on his face and hunches over while snickering with hysteria. "OH MAN! I didn't even know who the fuck they were when they pulled up!", he laughs out to me.
"No shit! I thought it was Uncle Leo or something!"
"Did you see when he picked up my "Booker gun?"
"Yeah, he was checking it out and then whistled because it looked real!" tee hee hee.

We continue to relive the moment all the way back to Grandma's house. When we walk into the front door everyone looks at us and someone asks "where were you two?"
"SHEEE-IT! We were at the school almost getting shot by cops!", I answer
"Yeah, we were just roughed up by the fuzz", Philly Blunts chimes in.
With a look of confusion and disbelief on their faces we tell the tale of the incident to the family. I think my older sister chimed in with something supportive like "You guys are idiots!" or something like that, while the other just shook their heads. My Grandmother was the only one who seemed sincerely amused by the whole incident and took in every word of our tale. She even laughed! We didn't care if the family thought we were idiots, we were too impressed with the fact that we "didn't" get shot that it just rolled off our backs when they shot us looks of shame. Years later we would find out that the family, with the exception of those mentioned earlier, thought we were indeed idiots and vocalized this to each other. Recently my mother confessed that they used to say "we worry about Phil and Damon. Man, those two...umph!" As if to say we were barely above the level of retarded. Oh well, we don't see much of them anymore so it doesn't really matter now. But that's another story for another time.

So how does this apply to the pope and religion? Well, if Jesus never got up and rolled that damn boulder out of the way to leave his cave and get his basket of chocolate bunnies and peeps then we'd never have Easter! If we didn't have Easter then we wouldn't have had to go to my Grandmother's house that day. If we hadn't gone to her house that day then we'd never have been roughed up by the fuzz. Finally, if there was no fuzz, then there'd be not action packed story for you to read! See, it's just that simple. Thank GOD for Easter!

DJB

Lucy in the Sky with Damon...

Acid. What a crazy drug this is. It's been around longer than I have, even longer than my parents. It's been written about in books for decades and even pops up in movies now and then. The beat generation dabbled in it, as well as dead heads, yuppies, perverts, kids, and basically any human who walks the earth. Even to this day the youth of today is discovering it for the first time, except now it is probably reaching the level of passe and considered "old school." There is plenty of nastier shit out there these days to fuck people up and for good! Schools taught you that it could make you kill your family, jump off buildings with delusions that you could fly, make you think you were a big orange and couldn't move. If you took it more than 4 times you were considered legally insane! Maybe it did these things for some, but not this little tiger...well,kind of. Whatever.

My first experiment with this mind altering wonder took place at a friends party when I was 17, still in high school and living at home. The cats name was Brian and his parents lived in the black hill mountains of south Dakota with a young boy named Rocky Racoooon-ah! Just kidding. He lived up in the hills of Upland though. Upland as I might have mentioned before was pretty durn close to Mt. Baldy. The posh houses were right up in hills on your way to Baldy. Brian's house was HUGE and his back yard was just as spacious. What made it even better to hang out at night was the huge fire-pit in the back patio. I can remember drinking many-o beer by the circle of fire that lit all our young faces orange late into the night. Another example of how huge the back yard was is that he had peacocks running around it? Really, who has peacocks just running around their yards?

At one party at Brian's house Jason and I showed up kind of late and the fun had already started. There were tons of people walking around, in and out of his house, circling the fire-pit and such. People I knew greeted us and those we didn't still gave a chipper "Hey" and a head nod. We grab our plastic cups and head towards the keg to catch up. After a bit I hear one of these damn peacock, but I don't see it? I start operation FIND THAT DAMN BIRD, by myself, and start to walk around the back yard. The bird is making a noise so loud it almost sounds like a person yelling. I'm just about to give up my search when I turn around and see this little dirt head guy walking towards me.

I didn't know this guy, but he was small and looked like he couldn't decide if he wanted to be a hippie or not? "Hey man, what's up?"
"Hey"
"What's up, my name is -----?" (shit, it was a long time ago? How am I supposed to remember?)
"Hey, I'm Damon" Insert hand shake here
"What're you doing?" he even looks a bit puzzled. Now I'm just bout to tell him, but think better of it. I'm sure "trying to find that damn peacock" might have made plenty of sense to the little burn-out, but why test it. "Nothing" is all I had for him.
"Hey man, I got some acid if you want to score some?"
"Oh...uh...really?" Now I had never taken acid before, plus we all know the story of the girl who took it, tripped out hard, ran around like a maniac and mistook the cops for gorilla's as they started to chase her. I pondered this all for a second as I rubbed my chin with my head cocked and looked to the sky for no reason. "Sure, how much?"

After my purchase I was so excited I ran up to Jason and showed it to him, looking like a kid who just caught a lady bug and was showing it to his parents. "Whaaat?! Are you going to take it?" "YEAH!", I exclaim, "What do you think?!" I then popped the little speck of square paper into my mouth and waited for the magic to come.

I continued to drink some beers and every once in a while I would wave my hand in front of my face. Nothing. I was starting to feel a little bummed and ripped off...of a whole whopping $5! I finally stand up to walk into the house to squirt the squirrel. As I'm walking I feel a little bit of butterflies in my stomach and realize I'm smirking for no reason. I get to the bathroom, take care of business and head back outside. All while smirking. I get caught up noticing things in the house and start to walk into the living room. I casually look around like I'm a fucking property inspector and notice this HOT chick lying on her stomach with her shirt off in front of the fire place. There is a guy sitting on her ass and rubbing her shoulders. It was a very surreal thing to see when your caught off guard...and tripping the light fantastic! I suddenly apologize and turn on my heels when they yell for me to come back. "Hey guy, it's cool" the guy tells me while his lady friend just smiles at me while resting her head on her folded arms. I don't know why that seemed to make me feel at ease, but it did so I just walked in and sat in a wing back chair off to the side.

I don't recall what their names were but instantly they started shooting the breeze with me. Turned out it was Brian's older brother and some floozie he was seeing. Now being the youngster I was I would have thought any chick with her top off was beautiful, but this girl actually was. Ravishing if you will. We start talking about the party and how I knew his brother, the usual b.s., yet the girl never really utters an effing word? She just lied there looking at me, not in a disturbing way but in a way that seemed like she was neither interested, nor uninterested in talking to me. During some of the conversation Brian's brother would grab a bottle of lotion, squirt it into his hand and proceed to rub it into the little Lolita's shoulders. Again, I don't know why I put myself in this situation, but there I was. Oh wait! That's right, the LSD might have been the reason! Oopsie.

The conversation kind of winds down and I just sit in the chair feeling like I was really small and the chair was really huge. I then starting thinking about how I probably looked like a toddler who was set in the chair for time-out because I was acting up.
"Damon...DAMON!"
"Huh?" I reply, snapping out of my drug induced day dream.
"I said I really have to take a piss and was wondering if you could take over for me?"
"Um...take over what?", surely he couldn't be talking about what I thought he was talking about?
"C'mon man. Could you just take over giving her a back rub for me? I have to take a leak and my hands are tired..."
Now all of the sudden the girl was STARING at me with a hint of amusement and non chalance. The only thing that would process in my mind at first was "FUCK THIS ACID IS FUCKING WITH ME! This is not happening!" I look at the brother and say, "are you serious? You want me to sit on your girl and rub her back for you?"
"Yeah, it's cool, I trust you"
"I don't even know you OR HER!"
"You going to do it or not? I really have to piss?" Now the girl is giving me a flustered look that says "c'mon guy! make up your mind!" and I stand up. I pretty much did a really slow version of the Purina Cat Chow (chow chow chow) not really sure if I should stay or run out? I go for the latter and say "I'll be right back" as I scamper out of the room and house.

Not really sure what the fuck is going on I sit at the fire pit by everyone. All guys. "Where the hell have you been?" Jason asks me. "Yeah. Well, uh...I've been sitting in the house talking to Brian's brother and some hot chick who's topless"
Everyone seems caught of guard by this and immediately hammers me with questions. "What? Are you serious" "is she really hot" "what the fuck are you doing out here then?!" "Your a fucking liar" and any other questions or statements young dip shit guys ask when boobies come into a conversation. There is one kid especially who has millions of question, and he asks them all with a panting perverted fervor that makes me sick. I hated this fucker already and him knowing this chunk of knowledge made me hate him more.

A little about this guy. His name is Matt Wenger and unbeknownst to him we all secretly called him "Baby Huey" or "Cuddles." The reason he was labled these names is because he was over 6ft tall, covered with freckles, had obnoxious red hair, chubby with a droopy belly and a round cherub face. If he met a girl, he would lay it down so thick 90% of the girls were repulsed by him, yet he would be so smothering and never take the hint, thus making him even more disturbing. Even if she was your girlfriend he was still pursuant. If he couldn't score with the girl he would settle for being their sensitive guy friend who they could talk to with any problem they had. Years later he would still be creepy and live with one of his friends...and the friends wife!

Cuddles wants to get down to the bottom of my story and tells everyone they should go inside and see what's doing! When I see Big Red get that horny puppy look in his eyes while the glow of the fire-pit dances on his freckled face I knew he didn't care if everyone went with him or not, he was going in. Jason, Cuddles, myself and a few others decide to go in. I lead the way to the living room hoping the couple was just fooling with me, had a good laugh when I left and took off somewhere. Nope, they were still there, as if they were waiting for my return. Now I felt like a big drugged up asshole for coming back with an entourage. Once everyone piled into the room they just stood around in an uncomfortable silence. I sat back in my chair and just look at all the drooling gentlemen absorbing the situation. Especially cuddles.

Brian's brother makes some small talk, but in that uninterested "I don't have time for you kids" manner. It seems like the fellas realize this is going nowhere and are about to leave disappointed when cuddles chimes in with "HEY! You look kind of tuckered out, if you want I could take over for you!" WHAT?! You fat fucking retard! What are you doing?! I think to myself and throw him the stink eye.
"No guy, I don't think so"
"Oh, you sure?", but he didn't need a reply. He knew it was a stupid question. He looks down into his plastic cup with a sad clown face, turns and walks out of the room.

Now I feel guilty and try to give some lame excuse for bringing those fucker in with me. "Hey, sorry about that? I just went out for some fresh air and they followed me in. Especially that fat fucker. I hate him you know"
"Don't sweat it. Sooo, you wa..."
"Cool, I just...I'm sorry what?"
"You going to take over or what?"
"Oh no, I can't" after this statement the little harlot chimes in with her 2 cents.
"Why not? I don't mind. Are you gay or something?" she asks
"NOOO! I'm not gay! It's just, kind of weird?"
Now she is smiling at me, but in a perverted, yet sweet way.
"Are you scared? You don't have to sit on top of me if you don't want. You can sit to the side, c'mon..."
"Uh... Trust me, I would LOVE to and I think your hot and all...it's just" Now I wasn't lying, I really wanted to cave in and rub her like I was washing a car, but the acid was kicking in harder now and the situation was already bizarre.
"Damon. Just do it, he doesn't mind..."
"Yeah, I'm getting tired", Brian's brother reminds me
"He's getting tired and I still want my back rubbed"
"Ha!..naw, I can't" At this point I'm shaking my head like that retarded vulture in those looney tune cartoons.
"Thanks anyway, I think I'm going to go back outside" I get out of the chair to leave and this girl is really seducing me with her gaze so I quickly look down at my shoes, wave bye-bye and walk out while meekly saying "it was nice meeting you".

By the time I get to the kitchen I feel like a total loser. Here was this hot, beautiful WOMAN! Not girl, but WOMAN, begging me to rub her down. She wasn't telling me to go for a poke in the woods or anything, just a nice lotion enhanced rub down...and I run out like a little girl. This was ludicrous! WHAT AM I THINKING! I close my eyes and build up the courage and nerve to go back and accept their offer. With a hearty amount of false bravado I walk into the room and I'm about to blurt out "Alright you crazy kids! You got me! I'll do it!" but there was no one there? I turn around like a kid lost in the mall and see no sign of them. Where'd they go? Damn, this acid is some good shit! Maybe I imagined the whole thing. I start to snicker to myself and walk back out.

Like a pack of wild dogs waiting for me to throw some meat scraps my buddies are waiting for me to speak. I don't say anything, I just sit and watch the dancing of the fire in the pit. Fed up with my silence they bombard me with more questions. In typical Jason form his first question is "did she suck your dick?" This is Jason's favorite question and I would find out many years later that he will ask that question before anything else. Even now, regardless of the fact that he is married, a father and a teacher, he will still ask me this no matter what. "Jason, I got into a fiery crash and hit some lady with my car" "Really?! Did she suck your dick? Are you alright?" "Man Jason, I just broke up with my girlfriend and she was pretty upset with me" "Did she suck your dick? What did she say?" His wife even knows this is his M.O. yet it never bothers him. Anywayoffbase, I tell them I was propositioned again when everyone walked out and like before I scurried off like a shameful critter. I get the usual berating chimes of "AWWW" and "WHAAT?!" followed up with a couple of "what a fag" and "total idiot's" sprinkled in for good measure.

Shamed and still ready to peak on my acid, Jason and I head home. I casually cruise into my house and I can feel the shame being taken over by the euphoria of LSD. No one is awake and I quickly head to my room and shut the door. Now I'm consumed with giggles as I recount the events of the evening and keep walking in circles with boths hands on my head chanting "oh my god!" Once I had a little quiet time it seemed the acid was taking a whole new stage and I was willingly let it take me over. Immediately I get my Beatles White Album out and set it to play Revolution #9 on continuous repeat. I had read somewhere that Revolution #9 was THE song to play while tripping so I had to hear it. Turns out it's true! I don't know how many times I sat there listening to every word of that pointless song and laughing silently and hysterically to myself. Sometimes I would be caught up in laughter then I would just stop abruptly because I would here a voice or sound I'd never heard before. The acid was working full steam ahead and I loved every second of it. I got the idea to draw a picture and drew this picture of John Lennon from some Sergeant Pepper poster I had on my wall. When that was finished I got the idea to take the black marker and draw little doodles on my hand. I don't really recall everything else I did but I was up for a while before I finally got to sleep in the early a.m.

The worst part about that night was I had to work the next day so I had to wake up early. I worked in a ladies shoe store in the mall (during the hey day of Married with Children of course. So please, save the Al Bundy jokes, I've heard them all) and it required me to wear a shirt and tie as well as looking nicely groomed. I had even cut my long hair to work there! My alarm clock goes off and I swore I had just shut my peepers for only a second! Feeling a little disoriented I slide out of bed and shuffle off to the bathroom to take a shower. Grinning to myself on the walk to the bathroom I reflect on the random night I had just had. Once in the bathroom I reach into the shower to turn on the water and realize I had lines and squiggles all over my arm. I laughed a bit at the stupidity of it and start to undress. Facing the bathroom mirror I peel off my t-shirt and casually look at my reflection. WHAT-THE-FUCK!!? As I dropped my shirt in shock I stare at my reflection in disbelief! All over my upper body I was covered with drawings done with a black marker! The only parts that didn't have any sign of doodling were my hands and from my neck up. Other than those parts, I pretty much looked like I was in the Yakuza and all my tattoo's were done by an artist with down syndrome. I quickly look into my boxers but luckily I didn't touch anything below the waist. As quick as can be I jump in the shower, grabbing the scrubber and soap. I lather it up nice and thick and start scrubbing away. The warm water feels good and I'm just scrubbing away at my arms, chest and parts of my back (how I drew on my back is beyond me) just covering myself with thick foamy lather. Stepping under the shower head to rinse off I feel my stomach drop. It wasn't coming off?! I scrub, lather up and rinse again...HOLY SHIT! IT WASN'T COMING OFF! I try a third time and the bold black lines are barely fading! What the hell was I going to do? I had to be at work in an hour! I had to see my parents! I was fucked!

Luckily my room was right across the hall from the bathroom and I was able to bolt across the hall right into my room, all without being seen. Caught up in frantic thought I tried to come up with a solution. During this brainstorm I notice the black marker on the floor next to this really abstract looking picture of John Lennon (which was actually REALLY good I must say). Damn. In large letters across the bulky pen are written the words MARKS-A-LOT with "permanent marker" written right underneath. Fuck, they weren't kidding? I decide that I would just have to dress up and walk around the house that way. I pulled the biggest longsleeve shirt I had out of my closet and proceed to get dressed. Like a dream the baggy shirt hung so loose that it made the cuffs on my sleeve drag down to my thumb joints. I could reach up and out without making my art work visible.

I was able to leave the house no questions asked and the work day flowed just as easy too. When I got home that night I grabbed a bottle of alcohol and a wash clothe and began the cleaning process. I managed to get my arms pretty clean, but the best I could mange with the rest of my torso was a light gray shade of markings. It took about a couple of days to finally be rid of all that marker magic, but the memories of that night would last forever.

I took plenty more LSD in those following years and always had a great time. Jason surprisingly was always the Chewbacca to my Han Solo during most of these "trips" and we had many adventures along the way. We even had Disney passes for a couple of years so we could storm the Magic Kingdom while tripping out. Together we never had any bad trips or got into any trouble. We were pretty mellow kids so it's a given. I don't think it's for everyone, shit, I KNOW IT'S NOT because I've seen some folks wig out, but it was always good to me. I never met any gorilla cops or thought I could fly and eventually I grew out of the stage where LSD was fun anymore. In my mid 20's I would dabble on rare occasions but it was few and far between. Every once in a while I wonder how it would be if I were to take some hits of LSD, but that's not who I am any more and it no longer interests me. Now I'm 30 and getting older and there are more important, responsible things going on in my life. Those days are far behind me.

... or are they! Whoo whoo hahaha!

DJB

*UPDATE* KFC Chicken Snacker a "little" misleading...

A while back I had posted my review of that horrific little slice of hell known as the "KFC Chicken Snacker". Now I found an article talking about how I'm not the only one with gripes about this shite in a bun! Read on:

Fast food chain KFC has come in for criticism from customers who say its Mini Fillet advert is misleading.

Five consumers complained to the Advertising Standards Agency (ASA) that the chicken burger used in the TV commercial was larger than in real life.

The company claims the Mini Fillet used was within the "standard range of dimensions", and that its name clearly indicates its size.

It also suggested that the woman filmed eating the sandwich may have had small hands, making the product appear slightly larger than it was.

Nevertheless, the ASA upheld the complaints against KFC and has pulled the ads.

"Even though the product was called a mini chicken fillet burger, we do not think this was sufficient to alert consumers to the fact the product was smaller than appeared in the advertisement," the ASA said.

The controversial ad shows a group of people eating KFC's Mini Fillets at a railway station.

KFC is owned by US fast-food giant, Yum Brands, which also owns Pizza Hut and Taco Bell.

Now just remember kids, you heard it here first! I'm sure complaints about the after effects of eating this sandwich feeling like prison rape are well on their way.

DJB

Hangin with "Freaks and Geeks", RSVP PSP - find out what it means to me, Super Downsize me - A Weekday Review Round-up...

Greetings people of earth!
Yes, I know I've been away longer than a conversation with Stephen Hawking, but I've been busy. What's important is that we are here now, so enjoy my latest offerings. Here we go...

DVD's:

Freaks and Geeks: The entire series

Hot digitty damn this set is the best thing since women's boobs! Really, I think this show was one of the most unappreciated shows that ever hit the airwaves. I don't know how many of you have watched the show, or even heard of it for that matter, but this is a must see box set! If after watching a couple of episode you find you still don't like it...THEN I'M PULLING YOUR FEEDING TUBE!!! Eww, I think I made the baby Jesus cry with that one? SOWWY!

The show is set in the midst of 1980. Being an adult who grew up during this magical time I can appreciate all of the references and music that is played throughout the series. The title of the show pretty much sums up what the show is about. The "Geeks" are freshmen who long to be accepted as "cool" by their fellow classmen, but just can't cut it. The "Freaks" are your basic group of heathens, or so you think. You know, the kids with the denim jackets and hard rock t-shirts. I don't know what ad they placed when casting for this show, but every character is PERFECT! You can instantly think of someone you went to high school with that either made you miserable or was your buddy when you watch this show.

The main geek kid is named Sam Weir and he is pretty much the unappointed leader of the geeks. This kid is mucho scrawny and almost looks like he could pass for a girl. His two best buds are Bill Haverchuck and Neil Whateverhislastnameis. Bill is a tall kid who has a grown out buzz cut, wears glasses so thick he can see the future and has a face that looks like he just ain't right. Sad part is, even though he exaggerates his features, they don't do much to change his look. He really does look like he might be slow. The other bestest friend is Neil. Neil is a short chubby faced Jewish kid. He has a nasty head of curly black hair (cut in a fashion only managers at Big LOTS! still wear) and always wears a sweater vest. They are all into science fiction (especially Star Wars) and love comedy flicks. They are constantly quoting from Airplane! and the Jerk. Thing is, it's actually funny to hear their banter. I can't speak for all of you who are in denial, but this reminded me a lot of my friends from school. Shit, it reminds me of some of the friends i even have now. NOTE TO SELF: get new friends.

The "Freaks" are a awesome little bunch as well. Sam has a sister named Lindsay Weir and in the pilot episode she tries to fit in with the "Freaks" in an attempt to rebel and find herself. Prior to trying to fit in with the hooligans she was a prize student and even participated in "The Mathletes". For reasons that aren't really clear she denounces that whole scene and blends in with the "Freaks". What's great about her falling into their social circle is she is their voice of reason AND you start to find out that these kids aren't bad at all, they just have shitty starts in life and have been marked losers by either teachers or their own family. Even Lindsay's parents call them "burn outs" without really meeting them. The Freak posse consists of Daniel Desario, Kim Kelly, Ken Theyneverreallygivehislastname and Nick Andopolis (or something). Daniel is played by James Franco, who is most recognized as Harry Osborne in the Spider-man flicks, and he's your basic greasy haired, emaciated looking, dirty looking clothes wearing "burn out". As the series moves on you find he knows he's a loser, but he's got heart, holmes! His girlfriend Kim is your typical white trash...she even drives a cancer rusted Gremlin! Ken is a monotone voiced teenager with a nappy head of hair and wicked mutton chop sideburns. He rarely says anything that isn't sarcastic. Nick! WHEW! Nick is this tall kid who is a major pot head and LOVES playing the drums. His dream is to be a famous drummer and he takes pride in his 28 piece drum set.

The set is pretty much 18 hours long so I can't really get into any of the stories. I can tell you that even though it's a coming of age style show, it isn't preachy or over dramatic like the Wonder Years tended to be. Again, you will find yourself laughing at some of the situations because they really hit close to home. I wish this box set had arms and legs, then I'd walk it up the aisle and marry it! That's how much I love this fucking show! Ya heard.

Freaks and Geeks - *****stars! A first on this site!


Game Systems:

Sony PSP

When I first got this show on the road I talked about my desire to get me a new Sony PSP. Well my friends...MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! Sure the trail leading to my goal wasn't easy, but I got it damn you! I got it! TOP OF THE WORLD MA!

Originally I had intended to reserve my beloved PSP at my local gameshop. This was during the time when I was delirious with pain from the Devil twisting his little toe in my ear. I had made many-o phone call to confirm that I could reserve my PSP because surely they were going to be hotter than a Jerry Curl in the summer. When I go to the shop to sing my name to the RSVP list the little bastard behind the counter smugly tells me, "Sorry. We stopped taking names as of this morning". The next thing I knew my fingers were sore because I made a fist so tight after hearing his smug little answer I think I hear a few of them crack! "Um...I called yesterday and they said it wouldn't problem reserving one today?" (I had really called too)
"Yeah, well we got an e-mail this morning saying we aren't doing that anymore. Sorry"
It's about this time that I notice the bastard looks like that cartoon character "The Critic" and was about a foot and a half smaller than me. My sight was getting blurry with rage and the pain in my ear didn't help me out any either.
"I see. Do you think you could just add my name to the bottom of the list? I mean, I called yesterday and it's only one more name?"
"PSSH! Uh...NO! I don't think so. Sorry"
It took a few seconds to realize that this fucker had scoffed at me and when it hit, it hit like a semi truck.
"...fffFFFFUUUCK!!!" I yell out loud like I was the Mexican Hulk!
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!? I JUST CALLED YESTERDAY! THIS IS BULLSHIT!!!"
I really don't know what kept me from leaping the counter like a Werewolf and smashing his face into the counter? But it wasn't until I was in my car that I realized I hadn't. The goocher was, when I had my mini break down all The Critic could do was shrug his shoulders and say sorry in a tone that was told me he loved having the power to deny me my PSP. I was in a fog of rage when I walked out of there. I still fantasize about kicking that fuckers guts out.

I finally realized that I had to find a store that was selling them and pull the ultimate geek/loser move and stand in line at some funky hour in the morning. The other challenge would be location. Where would be a good spot to score the unscorable? TARGET! Not just any Target, but the Target in the ghetto! Yes, dammit it just might work! That was my plan and I was sticking to it!

6am on the day of release I drive up to the Ghetto Target in Santa Ana, or what could easily referred to as "Little Mexico"! Trust me, this part of town practically smelled like bean burrito's and I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to take advantage of this situation. When I pull into the parking lot all I see is some hobo wrapped in a blanket at the front of the store? A slight panic shot a drip of pee pee out of the ole bald bishop but I parked anyway. Perhaps this store didn't get a shipment after all?! Surely there had to be a posting or something notifying customers if that were the case. As I get closer to the front doors I notice that the hobo is playing a gameboy. Silly bastard! He wasn't a hobo at all! Just some guy who spent the night in front of the store so he could get a PSP. Around 7:30 there are only 5 of us waiting to get our goods and by 8am there were 11. At first I felt like a total a-hole for waiting in line at 6am, but then I realized I wasn't the guy who spent the night and it was better to be safe than sorry.

When the gates of heaven open I casually walk (but run in my mind) to the electronics counter and claim my reward. I couldn't believe it all worked according to plan!

I couldn't even wait to get to the office before I opened it up, I had to do it right there in my trusty G-ride! As I slowly unpack everything a car pulls up next to me and I hear this punk ass kid say, "YEAH! They have to have them still! This fucker here is already playing his!" It was with this statement I looked up in shame like I got caught whacking off and then shook my fist at him.

WOW! I don't even know how to begin to describe the beauty of the PSP! Remember when we were growing up and the Odyssey system was THE system to have?! All it was was some blocky graphics and you had to play with clunky controllers. Not only was this the most amazing machine I've ever seen, but it made me feel old. I can't believe the way technology has progressed!? When you see this machine you can't help but think that it's almost surreal that these things are soon to be the norm with kids today! Fuckers.

The PSP has a 4.somthing widescreen screen that when playing a movie is better than most TV's we've seen in peoples homes. It can also be used as an MP3 player, holds JPEG files for viewing pictures, plays mini DVD style movies and plays video games that are equal to a PS2. The games I picked up were "Darkstalkers" and "Lumines". These are the best looking games I've ever seen. My only gripe is that the machine comes in this shiny plastic casing that looks like a crime scene when your done playing it. They provide a wipe cloth for it, but I can't stand fingerprints and didn't touch it for almost a full day because it was so pretty I didn't want to ruin it. Once I got over my neurosis it was gaming heaven from then on. At $250 it's not the cheapest system, and I think it's way to sophisticated for the wee chillins, but it is well worth the price! If the Freaks and Geeks box set turns down my marriage proposal I think I'll marry the PSP instead!

Sony PSP- *****stars! It's so good you want to slap it and call it your wife!

Jobs:

Getting Down Sized

I don't even know how to start with this one? For the people out there who aren't too familiar with the term "down sized" it pretty much means it's what happens when the company you work for treats you like a big juicy fart...and lets you go! Yes that's right, I was given notice that my position here in corporate America was being eliminated. Here's how I found out.

I spent most of the weekend caught up in drink and an occasional BT. When you indulge in such weekends as these you start to remember how many vacation and sick days you have. Well I was in the shower Monday when this useful information popped into my head. It was then that I realized that maybe I was feeling a little ill and it wouldn't be wise for me to go into the office. Turns out my "ailment" would last until Tuesday too. While I was in the middle of that dream where I run real fast then take a small leap forward to start flying that my cell phone rings and wakes me up. I turn off the ringer and try to get back to being airborne. This was pretty much useless and I got out of bed, besides it was after 12pm anyway.

A little bit after I waddle out of bed I get a call from my buddy I work with telling me that we got the axe and if anyone called besides her to let me know. Wiping the sleep out of my eyes I finally realize what she just said.
"WHAT?! We got fired!"
"Yeah, they said they were eliminating our positions and we are all being let go!"
"Shit, I guess it's a good thing I was off today then? Otherwise I'd be miserable AND at work." She proceeds to fill me in on some of the details and for some reason I wasn't really bummed to lose my job. It almost felt like I was being set free and some of the stress I felt went away.

Later on I finally get a call from our regional manager in the home office who we refer to as "the Troll". She is this short lady who had a head the size of a Mardi Gras puppet and a trollish face. She is sweet as sugar though and we always got along famously. I could tell she was nervous by the tone in her voice and I almost giggled when I had to act like I was just hearing the news for the first time. I threw in a few "man, this sucks" and "I can't believe it" nuggets for show but I really didn't care. She tried her best to be nice about it, but I could tell some of it was scripted by home office. My favorite part was when she told me "The company has invested quite a bit of money into their technological upgrades and even though they have had to make cut backs in 90% of their offices, they hope that it will be worth it in the future." It as at this point I chimed in with, "Trolly McTrolltroll, just a little word of advice if I may? You really shouldn't tell the person your calling up to give the boot that the company hopes to make a ton of cash as a result of you being downsized. Call me cuckoo, but I know for myself the future earnings of the company is no where near as important at wondering where my future earnings are going to come from. As a matter of fact, finding out I won't be working for the company might just effect my loyalty too? But that's just me talking"
"...oh...um...yeah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it to sound like that?"
"Perfectly ok. Well thanks for letting me know, I appreciate you calling me yourself. Yeah...um...guess I'll see you later?"

There was other mumbo jumbo involved in the conversation but the only important part was that my last day would be Oct. 21st so this was another reason why I wasn't freaking out about getting the boot.

Truth be told, I hate my job. I've been in the insurance business for 10 years and have never had any interest in it. I've thought about trying something new, but it's hard looking for a job when your at work?! Not to mention it was more of a daydream than something I would ever pursue. Now I have a kick in the ass and 7 months to apply for something new, something that might actually interest me or fool me into thinking I was interested in it. I hope this turns out to be a blessing and actually makes my day a little more enjoyable than the days I spend having my soul sucked dry of any pleasure and interest by corporate America. If not, then I'll just go back to insurance...to continue going prematurely grey and balding from stress. WHEEE!

What really gets me heated about this whole thing is knowing that I have to revise my resume so I can send it out. That's not even so bad, what sucks more than that is I have to go to interviews now! I HATE fucking interviewing! I loathe having to dress up and have one on one's with some stranger so I can sell myself to them. It's a fucking drag. Now I have to drop some lbs (because jobs are like relationships, once you've been with them for a few years you let yourself go and start to look schlubby) and get out my "dress" clothes. It's a good thing I'm a handsome motherfucker or else I might have run into some problems!

We'll see how it goes.

Getting Downsized- "0"stars! c'mon, even one star is too much!


DJB